d the loose
part of his knicker-bocker-like breeches, and dragged him off the wagon,
to plant him down in front of West.

The result was that their prisoner began to rage out abusive words in
Dutch, so loudly that in the exasperation he felt, Ingleborough raised
his right foot and delivered four kicks with appalling vigour and
rapidity--appalling to the receiver, who uttered a series of yells for
help in sound honest English, struggling the while to escape, but with
his progress barred by West, who closed up and seized him by the arm.

The outcry had its effect, for the called-for help arrived, in the shape
of a sergeant and half-a-dozen men, who came up at the double with fixed
bayonets.

"What's all this?" cried the sergeant sharply, as he surrounded the
party.

"Only a miracle!" cried Ingleborough. "This so-called Boer, who could
not speak a word of English, has found his tongue."

"What are you, prisoner--a Boer?" cried the sergeant.

"Ah, yah, yah," was the reply, gutturally given; "Piet Retif, Boer."

"Well, sir, orders are that the Boer prisoners are not to be ill-used,"
said the sergeant. Then, turning to the prisoner: "This your wagon and
span?"

"Ah, yah, yah, Piet Retif."

"He says Yah, yah, sir," said the sergeant, "which means it is his
wagon."

"Oh yes, it is his, I believe," said Ingleborough.

"Then what have you against him?"

"Only that he's a renegade Englishman, a man who deserted from Kimberley
to the Boers."

"It's a lie, sergeant," cried the man excitedly.

"That's good English," cried Ingleborough. "I told you I had worked a
miracle; now perhaps I can make him say a little more. He's an
illicit-diamond merchant and cheat as well, and his name is not Piet
Retif, but James Anson, late clerk to the Kimberley Company. What do
you say, West?"

"The same as you," replied West.

"It is a lie!" cried the man. "Piet Retif, dealer in mealies and corn."

"Mealies and corn!" cried Ingleborough scornfully. "The man is what I
say: an utter scoundrel, cheat, and, worse than all, a renegade and
deserter to the Boers."

Anson's jaw dropped, and his face seemed to turn from a warm pink to
green.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

ANOTHER START.

Before Anson's jaw had time to return to its place the sergeant and his
men sprang up to attention, looking as stiff as if on parade.

West was the first to see the reason, and he nudged Ingleborough, just
as a stern voice asked what was wrong